I'm a doctor, not a
by CrystalXanadu
Summary: An amusing Carson moment. The things they bring to sickbay . . . Chapter 5 added, now complete.
1. Palaeontologist

_**I'm a doctor, not a . . .**_

by Bluestar1

A little moment between episodes that I wrote for SV.

* * *

"Doctor Beckett?"

"What have you found for me this time, Ford?" Carson looked up from his microscope with a look of exasperation at being interrupted.

"Uh, well . . . you see, you know that planet where we met the T-Rex?" Ford looked embarrassed to be explaining this. "Well, we went back, because the lab said there might be a plant there that disagrees with the Wraith – you know, its pollen and that."

"So did you need me to analyse this plant?" Carson breathed a premature sigh of relief.

"Uh, no. The T-Rex found us again. It was snacking on this poor beastie's mother." Ford held his hands out. Cupped in them was a tiny baby pterodactyl, and it was trying to chew Ford's thumb. "I think it's hungry."

"I'm a doctor, not a palaeontologist. Oh, well. Bring on the dinosaurs."


	2. Vet

**I'm a doctor, not a . . .**

by Bluestar1

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate, not any of the characters/items etc. associated with them. Nor am I making any money from these, I write them for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

Having dealt with Ford's baby pterodactyl (and having most of the female nurses oooh and aaah over it), Carson was taking the time to put a plaster(1) on his nipped fingers. He had barely found the box, however, when the sound of light footsteps behind him made him turn around. "Teyla! What can I do for you? No more dinosaurs, I hope?" His expression begged her to say no. 

"No, Doctor," Teyla said to his relief. She continued seriously: "There is a problem on the mainland with some of the herd animals we have had imported."

"A problem? What sort of problem?"

Teyla sighed, and repeated herself. "Some of the herd animals my people are raising have become ill, and they do not know why. My people wish you to see if you might heal them."

The doctor directed a harassed look at her. "Look, lassie, I'll do the best I can, but I'm a doctor, not a vet."

"I am sure you will do all you can, Doctor." Teyla's brown eyes were amused as Carson sighed and grabbed his bag.

He had the sneaking suspicion that today was going to be one of those days.

* * *

1. Band-aid, for all of you who speak American English. 


	3. Psychiatrist

**I'm a doctor, not a . . .**

by Bluestar1

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate, not any of the characters/items etc. associated with them. Nor am I making any money from these, I write them for entertainment purposes only.

Author's Notes: Slight Sheppard/Weir in this one. Look away if you don't like that pairing.

* * *

Carson leaned back in his seat on the jumper and sighed, glad to be on his way back to Atlantis. The herd beasts – it was difficult to call green, furry, six-legged creatures cattle – had been suffering from an outbreak of Earth fleas, of all things. He'd explained to the Athosians what they were, given them instructions on the correct treatment and left a large batch of flea shampoo with them. Then, to the relief of Major Sheppard, who had agreed to fly him over, they had left. 

The Puddlejumper soared into the sky over the blue waters of Atlantis, the pilot looking relaxed for the first time in hours. "Hey, Doc? Can I ask you a question?" Sheppard's eyes were fixed on the screen in front of him, but Beckett could tell that his attention was elsewhere.

"Ask away, Major." Carson closed his eyes in the hopes that Sheppard's problem would be one he was actually qualified to deal with.

"Doctor-patient confidentiality, right?"

Carson opened one eye. The major was plainly edgy about something, and no little embarrassed. "Of course, Major."

"It's about – well, it's about Doctor Weir. Do you think she . . . do you think I . . ."

Beckett levelled him with a glare the equal of anything a Wraith could inflict. "Major, I'd love to help,but I'm a doctor, not a psychiatrist. Go talk to Kate Heightmeyer if you must, but don't start talking to _me_ about how you feel."

Sheppard sighed. "You know, Doc, there are days when you sound like Doctor McCoy."

"There are days when I don't?" was Carson's reply.


	4. Computer chip

**Computer chip**

by Bluestar1

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate, not any of the characters/items etc. associated with them. Nor am I making any money from these, I write them for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

An argument was echoing through Atlantis. Its contents were familiar to most of the personnel, and the outcome was almost always the same.

"Rodney, I'm a doctor, not some kind of . . . of computer chip! Anyway, you have the gene yourself. Why can't you . . ." Carson's protests were registering on deaf ears, however, as Dr. Rodney McKay herded him along the corridor towards Atlantis' control chair.

"Now look, Doctor, we've been through all these arguments before. And you lost that time, too. To recap, Major Sheppard is off-world, I have to take readings, and you've got the strongest gene of those left on base."

"You know what happened last time," Carson reminded him at they clattered down another set of the Ancient's non-rusting metal stairs. But his protests were losing their force as the familiar argument wound on. Resigned to the fact that once again he was going to have to sit in that chair, Carson gave up the hope of a last-minute rescue.

Rodney was implacable and entirely unsympathetic when it came to his scientific experiments. "I'm sure you've learned more control since last time."

With that, he pushed Carson unceremoniously into the chair room. Carson stumbled a little, and was caught by slim female hands. Surprised, he blinked and looked up into the amused face of Laura Cadman.

"Today might just be getting a wee bit better," he said to no-one in particular.


	5. Doctor

**Doctor**

by Bluestar1

Disclaimer: I do not own Stargate, not any of the characters/items etc. associated with them. Nor am I making any money from these, I write them for entertainment purposes only.

* * *

Silence.

Carson Beckett took a deep, careful breath and looked around as his brightly-lit and empty sickbay. Atlantis slept, for the most part, and all was quiet. No alien invasion, no strange technological accidents, nobody with even a bruise from falling over Doctor Zelenka.

Whoever had said that silence was golden had been completely accurate, as far as he was concerned.

At that exact moment, however . . .

**CRASH bang _thud_ CLATTER _clunk_.** "Yoooow! Who put that bucket there?"

Beckett sighed. That had sounded like Rodney.

Sure enough, Rodney McKay limped through the sickbay doors. "Carson, how did that bucket get there? I was walking along, reviewing the specs on the Puddlejumper, when . . . ahem. Anyway, is there anything you can do for my ankle? I think I sprained it."

Rodney sat himself firmly on the bed nearest Carson and stuck a booted foot out for inspection.

"Look, Rodney, I'm a doctor, not a . . . Oh, right. Yeah, it's been one of those days." Carson rubbed his forehead as he went to tend the skittish scientist.

* * *

Author's Note: This is the last in the "I'm a doctor, not a . . ." series. Thank you to everyone who read this, and an even bigger thank you to everyone who reviewed. Reviews are food for the author's soul. 


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